


Reflection

by spamushka



Category: Killing Stalking, 킬링 스토킹 | Killing Stalking (Webcomic)
Genre: Killing, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, Stalking, Twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spamushka/pseuds/spamushka
Summary: He loved that feeling. Completely owning a person. From their soul, to their flesh and bones.He realised how to make a person his early on - just make them fear him. Keep them in that state, and eventually, all they think of will be the source of that fear. In other words - him.-He loved that feeling. Completely owning a person. From their soul, to their flesh and bones.He realised how to make a person his early on - be there for them. Keep all they throw away, every memory, and eventually, all they thought of will be his. In other words - they'll be his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **"yoon bum might turn out to be even more twisted than sangwoo and i effin love it"** the story

He loved that feeling. Completely owning a person. From their soul, to their flesh and bones.  
He realised how to make a person his early on - just make them fear him. Keep them in that state, and eventually, all they think of will be the source of that fear. In other words - him.  
As the time passed, he learnt how to make people trust him more, and how that helps the fear grow, once they realise how different his tastes are. That moment when the trust breaks, and when the raw feeling comes out... He loved it.  
But he got bored of everyone, eventually.  
And he longed for someone to keep his interest for longer than a few hours; he longed, not even realising he did.  
And so he searched, and searched, and searched...  
-  
_He loved that feeling. Completely owning a person. From their soul, to their flesh and bones._  
_He realised how to make a person his early on - be there for them. Keep all they throw away, every memory, and eventually, all they thought of will be his. In other words - they'll be his._  
_As the time passed, he learnt he cannot make people trust him more, and also how to avoid the borders they set in between them, once they see how different he is. That moment when the truth comes out, and when they realise how much of them he has, he loves; and when they throw him away, like garbage... He hated it._  
_But he got thrown away by everybody, eventually._  
_And he longed for someone to be his; he longed, not even realising he did._  
_And so he searched, and searched, and searched..._  
-  
He never thought that the person would find him. That alone piqued his interest even more than the boy himself could've done with his words and pleas for mercy.  
Yes, he was pleading for mercy, but in his eyes, deep down, was happiness.  
And he gave the boy what he asked for.  
No chances of running.  
A reason to stay.  
-  
_He never thought that the person would make him stay. That piqued his interest even more than the person himself already had done._  
_Yes, he was pleading for mercy, but in his soul, deep down, was happiness._  
_And he got what he asked for._  
_No chances of running._  
_A reason to stay._  
-  
I never expected that the boy will keep my interest for more than a few days. Nobody ever did that. But the boy stayed, and others came and went as quickly as usual. And the boy was still there.  
_There was something about his eyes_ , I thought, as I stood behind him in the kitchen, while he was preparing the dinner. I was watching him carefully cut up onion, and putting it into the boiling water in a pot on the stove.  
“Bum,” I softly called him. The boy winced, slowly turned around and said: “Yes?”, in his quiet, submissive voice; which still undeniably had strength. I looked at him clasping the knife and smiled.  
“Nothing,” I said, and the boy meekly turned around and continued chopping up the vegetables.  
-  
Once more, I tried to break him. I did not go through it, though. But I let him have the taste of the side I’m on. And I wonder... if it’s my imagination, or the boy’s voice had grown stronger and stronger with each day that passed.  
-  
_And when I finally thought we were getting closer, when I thought I had him, she got in the way. But still... He looked at me when he was having her. He locked her up, and not me. He will kill her, and not me..._  
_But why do I feel jealous?_  
-  
_He gave me his knife. He ordered me to do it. He treasures me more than her. He thinks of me as his equal- And she is nothing more than a mere bug; nothing, she is nothing._  
_And, although I did end her life, with my own two hands, all I feel is..._  
_Nothing._  
-  
When he took him over the edge, he expected him to break. Like all the others before had. He expected him to be in pieces, to cry and scream, and plead for mercy and forgiveness. Not to grin, looking at him. Not to make him scared.  
But he couldn’t help but to shake with anticipation of joy that’s to come...  
-  
_When he leaped over the edge, he knew he will not break. He knew that the person he loves will be there. Unlike all the others before. He knew, whatever he did, he could not be more twisted than the person he loved. More twisted or more holy? He could not tell apart these two anymore; since the past looked so distant, like it was someone else’s life.  
_ _And he couldn’t help but to shake with anticipation of joy that’s to come..._

**Author's Note:**

> atm it's 6am here and i literally wrote this in less than a hour right after reading 19th chapter and i did not edit it at all since i need to go and schedule a doctor appointment in like 20 mins so feedback is more than appreciated  
> thanks in advance yo


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